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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



And he named her from the river, 

 From the waterfall he named her, 

 Minnehaha, Laughing-Water. 



* # # # # 



HIAWATHA'S FASTING. 

 You shall hear how Hiawatha 

 Prayed and fasted in the forest, 

 Not for greater skill in hunting, 

 Not for greater craft in fishing, 

 Not for triumphs in the battle 

 And renown among the warriors, 

 But for profit of the people, 

 For advantage of the nations. 



THE MAIZE. 

 After wrestlingivith Mondamin. 



Homeward then went Hiawatha 

 To the lodge of old Nokomis, 

 And the seven days of his fasting 

 Were accomplished and completed. 

 But the place was not forgotten 

 Where he wrestled with Mondamin; 

 Nor forgotten nor neglected 

 Was the grave where lay Mondamin. 

 Sleeping in the rain and sunshine, 

 Where his scattered plumes and garments 

 Faded in the rain and sunshine. 



Da}' by day did Hiawatha 

 Go to wait and watch beside it; 

 Kept the dark mould soft above it, 

 Kept it clean from weeds and insects, 

 Drove away, with scoffs and shoutings 

 Kahgahgee, the king of ravens, 



Till at length a small green feather 

 From the earth shot slowly upward, 

 Then another, and another, 

 And before the summer ended 

 Stood the maize in al! its beauty, 

 With its shining robes about it, 

 And its long soft yellow tresses; 

 And in rapture Hiawatha 

 Cried aloud, " It is Mondamin ! 

 Yes, the friend of man, Mondamin ! " 



Then he called to old Nokomis 

 And lagoo the great boaster, 

 Showed them where the maize was growing 

 Told them of his wondrous vision, 

 Of his wrestling and his triumph, 

 Of this new gift to the nations, 

 Which should be their food forever. 



THE SWEET SINGER. 



Most beloved by Hiawatha 

 Was the gentle Chibiabos, 

 He the best of all musicians, 

 He the sweetest of all singers. 

 Beautiful and childlike was he, 

 Brave as man is, soft as woman, 

 Pliant as a wand of willow, 

 Stately as a deer with antlers. 



When he sang, the village listened; 

 All the warriors gathered round him; 

 All the women came to hear him; 

 Now he stirred their souls to passion, 

 Now he melted them to pity. 



From the hollow reeds he fashioned 

 Flutes so musical and mellow, 

 That the brook, the Sebowisha, 

 Ceased to murmur in the woodland. 

 That the wood-birds ceased from singing, 

 And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 

 Ceased his chatter in the oak tree, 

 And the rabbit, the Wabasso, 

 Sat upright to look and listen. 



Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, 

 Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, 

 Teach my waves to flow in music, 

 Softly as your words in singing ! " 



Yes, the bluebird, the Owaissa, 

 Envious said, "O Chibiabos, 

 Teach me tones as wild and wayward, 

 Teach me songs as full of frenzy ! " 



Yes, the robin, the Opeechee, 

 Joyous said, " O Chibiabos, 

 Teach me tones as sweet and tender, 

 Teach me songs as full of gladness ! " 



And the whippoorvvill, Wawonaissa, 

 Sobbing, said, " O Chibiabos, 

 Teach me tones as melancholy, 

 Teach me songs as full of sadness ! " 



All the many sounds of nature 

 Borrowed sweetness from his singing; 

 All the hearts of men were softened 

 By the pathos of his music; 

 For he sang of peace and freedom, 

 Sang of beauty, love and longing; 

 Sang of death and life undying 

 In the Islands of the Blessed, 

 In the kingdom of Ponemah 

 In the land of the Hereafter. 



